by Michael Winters
"Jonah and the Whale", Folio from a Jami al-Tavarikh (Compendium of Chronicles), ca. 1400
Click on the image for more information via The Met.
This past Sunday’s sermon from Pastor Jamaal focused on repentance. He argued that whatever million things God is doing through this pandemic, it’s a good time for all of us to repent. (Listen to the sermon here, or watch the whole service here.) The sermon primarily looked at the book of Joel, but after coming across Dan Albergotti’s great poem “Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale” this morning, I thought about the connection between the sermon, repentance, and the book of Jonah.
Jonah is called by God to preach to “the great city Nineveh,” but he refuses. As he tries to escape God’s direction by boat, God sends a storm. Jonah ends up getting thrown off the boat and swallowed by a fish, remaining stuck there for three days and three nights.
[Holy week sidenote: Don’t you love Jesus’ statement in Matthew 12:40? “For as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a huge fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” It must have seemed such an odd thing to say before anyone could’ve imagined his resurrection.]
Jonah chapter 2 records Jonah’s own poem-prayer spoken in the belly of the whale:
“In my distress I called to the Lord,
and he answered me.
From deep in the realm of the dead I called for help,
and you listened to my cry.
You hurled me into the depths,
into the very heart of the seas,
and the currents swirled about me;
all your waves and breakers
swept over me.
I said, ‘I have been banished
from your sight;
yet I will look again
toward your holy temple.’
The engulfing waters threatened me,
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my head.
To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But you, Lord my God,
brought my life up from the pit.“When my life was ebbing away,
I remembered you, Lord,
and my prayer rose to you,
to your holy temple.“Those who cling to worthless idols
turn away from God’s love for them.
But I, with shouts of grateful praise,
will sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed I will make good.
I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the Lord.’”
At this stage of life, as most of us are staying home much more than normal, it’s probably easier than usual to imagine what it would be like to be stuck inside the belly of a whale, cut off from regular routine and experiencing social isolation.
Dan Albergotti’s poem, “Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale” is especially instructive for us now.
Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale
Dan AlbergottiMeasure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life’s ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.
“And the Sea Stopped Raging”, print by Barry Moser, part of the Pennyroyal Caxton Bible.
Repentance doesn’t come immediately. Repentance isn’t usually the first thing on our minds unless it becomes absolutely necessary. I can’t imagine that the level of self-awareness, and God-awareness, expressed in Jonah 2 set in as soon as Jonah plopped into the belly of the big fish. It would take a while to get your bearings. You’d have to look around and “count the ribs.” You’d need to settle down and “Listen for the sound of your heart.” You’d have to get to thankfulness for your weird and challenging circumstances. You’d have to consider your life, your actions. Then maybe true repentance would overflow. It seems this is the challenge before us, too.
If repentance is within you, let it out. Maybe write a poem-prayer of your own. Sit down and give yourself space and time to get there. If you write something, I’d love to see it. You can email mwinters@sojournchurch.com.
Notes: Thanks to Austin Kleon, who always points out so much good content, including the “Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale” poem above. He made this collage in response to the poem.
It looks like the book which includes the poem above, The Boatloads by Dan Albergotti, is out of stock on Amazon, but I ordered a copy direct from the publisher this morning.